


Inhale, Exhale

by Aceghost (darkalbino)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Biting, Comfort, Insecurity, M/M, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-13
Updated: 2014-08-13
Packaged: 2018-02-12 23:25:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2128389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkalbino/pseuds/Aceghost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“If you think I’m asking how to randomly pop up on people like a scowling, unwanted pimple, then no.” Stiles shrugged one shoulder, a half-grin tugging his lips as his head lolled to the side. “Unless that comes with the package, I really just figured that was a you kinda thing–“</p><p>“Stop talking.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Inhale, Exhale

**Author's Note:**

> nothing canon significant involved here - this is like, season 1 version of Derek and Stiles

So, here’s the thing…

If he asked him, there was a pretty solid chance one of two things was going to happen: Derek was going to go through with one of the litany of threats he’d made against him, or he was going to roll his glowy werewolf-eyes and ignore him (he would bet on this one, this one happened a lot). But the one thing Stiles was sure he wasn’t going to get was an appreciation for his curiosity and a straight answer, because really, deep down, Derek was just as much the broody asshole that he was on the surface.

Stiles ran his hands over his head, smoothing them back until they clasped behind his neck. Swiveling slightly in his chair, he looked down his nose at the man lying on his bed.

Derek’s cheek was pressed against the pillow, eyes closed and breathing even and if it had been anyone but Stiles in the room with him they would think he was asleep, but Stiles knew better. He wasn’t so much asleep as purposely not making eye contact with Stiles in the hope that the boy would just leave him alone. And really, how freaking ungrateful was that? That is _his_ bed. In _his_ house. And if Stiles wanted to open his mouth, then Derek better perk up his little wolf ears and listen to him.

He was gonna do it.

Right now.

C’mon Stilinski, deep breath.

“Sooo…just between you and me,” Stiles tapped his thumbs lightly against the sides of his neck, toes pushing into the carpet as he leaned forward, “is there _really_ any downside to it?”

In one smooth motion, Derek’s eyes were open, tinted blue around the edges as they pinned him with clear annoyance.

Stiles did his best not to let the tension reach his shoulders. He could usually brush off Derek’s bad-boy-glares, but there was something about his eyes that threw him off whenever he made the mistake of looking straight into them. “I mean besides, y’know, the whole let’s-just-kill-and-eat-anything-that-moves party you guys throw on full moons.” He laughed nervously and threw his hands up for emphasis. “But I mean c’mon, that’s just one night, what’s one night? That’s like, pfft, twelve hours – six if you’re asleep!”

“You’re not asking what I think you’re asking,” Derek muttered, more a warning than an actual question.

“If you think I’m asking how to randomly pop up on people like a scowling, unwanted pimple, then no.” Stiles shrugged one shoulder, a half-grin tugging his lips as his head lolled to the side. “Unless that comes with the package, I really just figured that was a _you_ kinda thing–“

“Stop talking.”

“It’s hypothetical!” Much to Derek’s dismay, Stiles began pushing his feet repeatedly against the floor to get the chair rolling towards the bed, speaking in between each push, “Just purely,” push, “from a curious,” push, “objective”, push, “standpoint.” His knees hit the side of the bed, and he made it a point to lean as close as possible when Derek sat up and tried to tower over him and be intimidating. In response to this overwhelming display of male dominance, Stiles crossed his arms and puffed his chest out a bit. Yeah, Derek wasn’t the only one who could be scary around here. Asshole.

Derek raised one bushy werewolf brow. “Hypothetical.”

Stiles’ head dropped in one sharp nod, “Absolutely.”

“Like the hypothetical wound that’s gonna be in your throat when I rip it open. With my teeth. If you don’t stop talking.”

Stiles pursed his lips for a moment before cocking his head to the side and squinting at the other man. Then, slowly, he let his mouth fall open just a bit, almost in a look of confusion. “Well, that’s more like a _threat_.”

Derek rolled his eyes (Stiles knew that was gonna happen at some point) and laid back down on his side, completely ignoring the boy as he presented his back to make it clear that this conversation was over. If you could even call it conservation, considering the guy said like ten words.

After a few heavy seconds of silence and awkward staring, Stiles decided that he was going to keep talking. Because fuck Derek. “Y’see, on one hand, I’ve seen all the crap that Scott has to put up with cuz’ of all this but sometimes…on the other…” Stiles trailed off. For a moment, his insides had twisted a little too tight for his liking. He shook his head slightly and licked his lips before continuing, “I mean, he’s got the strength, the team captain spot, the…the girl.” This time he had to stop.

It wasn’t that he was jealous of Scott, not really. He knew Scott had a lot of shit to put up with, and he couldn’t say he wasn’t happy for his best friend when he got to see him achieve the things he wanted. Part of him liked to believe that, by proxy, a little bit of that happiness could be his own. But then another, darker part of him would laugh “wow, who are you kidding?” Those were Scott’s moments, not his. Stiles didn’t get to be Batman. Stiles didn’t get to be captain. Stiles didn’t get to kiss Lydia.

The best Stiles could get was sidekick. And damn if he wasn’t clever and resourceful, he knew he was. But sometimes, just sometimes, he kind of craved the spotlight, too. He kind of wanted his turn. And he felt like that maybe made him kind of selfish.

A long, drawn out sigh escaped through his nose as he now regretted bringing this up at all. “Forget it.”

He hadn’t noticed that Derek had slowly turned towards him again; that he had peeked over his shoulder at the boy when his words started falling apart and had eventually migrated towards the edge of the bed. Derek dropped his legs over the side so his knees touched Stiles’, looked him dead in the face despite the fact that the other was facing away with his mouth and nose tucked into the crook of his folded arms. “You really wanna know?”

Stiles laughed humorlessly, sarcasm dripping from the corners of his mouth, “No, Derek, I was just jerking you this whole time, it’s a big elaborate prank, did you fall for it?”

There was a beat of silence, and then, without warning, Derek slipped one hand behind the boy’s neck, curling his fingers around until they slid beneath his jawline.

Stiles completely froze, every muscle locked up in shock as his head was tilted back and Derek nosed his way into the heat of space between his neck and arm. He could feel his heartbeat quicken, pounding louder and harder against his ribcage as the scruff on Derek’s chin lightly scratched his skin, and the unmistakable pinch of teeth found his pulse point.

“Uh…” Stiles wasn’t really sure how to feel about this, he wasn’t against it really but he sure wasn’t for it either. He was just really confused and really hoping Derek wasn’t about to make good on his threat about ripping stuff and wounds with his teeth. He should probably push him back. That sounded like a good idea. “Uh, this isn’t really…” Stiles forced his stiff hands against Derek’s shoulders, pushing at them lightly before they suddenly fell to the man’s waist when Stiles felt it getting a little too close. He held the other in place, blunt fingernails digging into the skin just above the waistband of Derek’s jeans.

Derek, on the other hand, didn’t seem to think that what he was doing was really fucking weird, or he did and just didn’t care. Stiles toes curled into the floor when he felt fangs scratch down the slope of his neck, right before Derek yanked the collar of his t-shirt to the side so he could press his mouth against the boy’s shoulder.

Stiles had gone from being frozen to nearly flailing beneath him, back arching as he twisted his fingers up into Derek’s shirt and sucked in a sharp breath. Words were tumbling out of his mouth in a flustered panic, rushed and breathless, “Y’know I don’t know if this is the most efficient - I mean, I was thinking more like, a pros and cons list or a pie chart, like –“

Derek growled, muffled words all breath and heat against Stiles’ skin, “Do you ever shut the fuck up?”

Before Stiles could get another word in, Derek sank his teeth in and the boy’s world went blank. His body locked up as a soft sound of surprised pain puffed from his lips.

Just as quickly as it had happened, it was over. Derek had pulled back and left behind four shallow holes welling with blood. He ran his tongue over his fangs, licking them clean, and sat back on the bed.

Stiles couldn’t do anything but stare, limbs still tense as he waited for something, anything to happen. He was afraid to look at his nails, which were now claws for all he knew. Was fur gonna grow on his face? He had to admit he didn’t really dig that idea. Goddamnit, this was not how he expected things to play out he just…fucking Derek, goddamn Derek.

The longer Stiles waited for wolf-hair to eat up his face the more panic built up within him, eventually spilling out in a flurry of rushed sentences,“What’s gonna happen to me? I didn’t ask for this, you furry dickbag, this was against my will. You can’t just turn innocent young boys into werewolves without their consent – that is rape. That is wolf-rape. You wolf-raped me!”

Derek couldn’t hide the hint of amusement that tugged at the corner of his lips, but he tried by folding them between his teeth and shaking his head. “I can’t turn you, idiot,” he drawled. “I’m a Beta.”

All the panic Stiles had accumulated washed out in relief, which only lasted a second before it was burnt up by annoyance. Figures one of the rare times he witnesses Derek actually half-laugh at something it’s at his own expense, out of something that was 2000% Derek’s fault. “Then what the hell was all,” Stiles cheeks puffed out, flushed with embarrassment as his hand violently gestured over the bite mark in his shoulder, which was still throbbing in light pain, “THIS?!”

“I just had to get that weird, deep-thinker look off your face,” Derek explained simply, like they were talking about the weather. He snorted quietly and once again lay down, turning his back to him. “It doesn’t really suit you.”

Stiles knew it was an insult, but for once, he didn’t feel the bite behind the words, and not because he was too busy feeling it in his damn shoulder. He couldn’t help the smile that stretched across his face as he raised his foot to give Derek a solid kick straight in the ass, chuckling when he earned an annoyed growl in return.


End file.
